


Sizzling snow

by nightfall_in_winter



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Barebacking, Beach Sex, Blow Jobs, Felching, Hot Sex, M/M, Naughty, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Snow Day, Underwear Kink, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2019-10-20 23:58:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17632229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightfall_in_winter/pseuds/nightfall_in_winter
Summary: Hot arctic adventure for our boys :) A prompt that has been in my inbox for ages. Enjoy!...We drown in each other’s mingled scents and it is impossible to tell if I am giving pleasure to him or to myself. I can smell both of us on his pert ass covered in navy cotton as I drag my forehead, my chin and my lips across his crevice. When I can’t wait any longer, I rip the fabric apart and I get only him...





	1. Chapter 1

It is the only place I can picture myself in when I think about true happiness. Right here, among the magnificent pine trees heavy with last night snow and the animal footprints criss-crossing the silent field ahead of us. With the cold smell of winter tingling inside my nose and the sweet numbness in my face when the wind caresses it. Timmy’s laughter and his excited rambles are the only human sounds I have heard today in Kakslauttanen where time has stopped for us along the road to the Arctic Sea.

It feels like he belongs only to me and the wilderness when he dives head first into a fluffy snowdrift and squeals with delight as I pull him out, all rosy cheeks and frozen curls. We wear matching neon green ski suits. His idea. I realise that it is the only item of clothing that can make him look adorably chubby and even younger. He is this animated, fluorescent doughnut that raps and kicks the frozen bark of the large tree trunk, disturbing the forest peace and covering us in snow. Not unlike Elio that final night in Bergamo – the jumps, the old stone wall, the alcohol on his lips, the Neapolitan song and his tiny frame disappearing in my arms.

I pin him to the tree, using all of my weight to feel his body next to mine and I kiss him. I lose myself in the soft moisture of his mouth. The contrast between his icy lips and his hot tongue is exhilarating and at this moment my life depends on restoring my precious bean’s temperature balance. So I suck his upper lip, slowly, before savouring the taste – sugary and familiar, with cloves from our Glögi earlier and the slight metallic hint of dehydration. “Are you getting tired, kitten?” I whisper in his ear, before nibbling on his lower lip and watch it turn dark pink and puffy. Ever since Crema where I’d spend hours exploring him, desiring him, tasting his frustration after a 10-hour shooting day and licking his stubble burn to soothe the pain, I just know. A kiss is all I need to tell if he is angry, sad, tender or cheeky because his taste changes.

He is getting greedy now. I love teasing him like this.

His hands skim over my ass and cup my cheeks insistently. He knows what it does to me and what I am wearing underneath. His scent. His worn D&G Mambo Siciliano Club boxers. My idea. Two sizes too big for him. Also my idea. My balls are feeling grateful today. 😊 He has my navy Armani trunks on, the ones I wore on our flight to Helsinki. He sat next to me reading and being his gorgeous restless self. Halfway through the flight he started rubbing my back and even decided to slip a sneaky finger in my ass crack. Nobody around us suspected anything and I was OK until he bit his finger and run his small tongue over its whole length to taste me. I just had to get up and almost run to the toilet to spank the monkey or risk coming in my pants like a 14-year old. Yes, he has that effect on me. And he knows it, you should have seen his face when he asked the flight attendant for coffee with some extra cream.

He has the same face now as he rubs me through the suit and purrs quietly.

 _Gorgeous ass_ , he says. _I just want to plunge fuck it with my tongue._

Like always, he undoes me effortlessly. My Timmy. With the mouth that coos the softest words of innocent worship and the hottest obscenities with the SAME intonation (and God, don’t I just LOVE both!). Sometimes he’ll come to me with sex in his eyes, only to warm his hands up the wide sleeves of my fluffy sweater and fall asleep, drooling all over my chest. Other times I’d go to him just to tuck him in bed as he looks so pure, frail and child-like and he’d jump on me with the ravenous thirst of a satyr. _I am topping tonight,_ my man-child would say then and it is never a question. Because he owns me, every inch of me, body and soul. And I will do all he wants me to do and more…

The path that leads to our glass igloo is narrow and tunnel-like, like a magic passage to Narnia. It is the most isolated igloo in the East village, located deep inside the forest. There is a cosy fire, a beautiful wooden coat rack, a large bed and the vastness of the northern sky above us. We wriggle out of our ski suits as quickly as possible and I sit on the floor resting my head at the foot of the bed. He places his legs on my shoulders and his frozen tootsies dance over my torso. We are only wearing each other’s underwear. I know he loves it when I put his toes in my mouth and warm them with my breath. I do this very gently, humming “ _well, you and I collapsed in love”._ * I feel his hardening cock at the nape of my neck and I rub the sweet bulge with my head before kissing the inside of his thighs.

When his moans turn sultry and irresistible, I turn to meet his eyes – my beautiful anchor made of acceptance, affection and desire. _Ravage me_ , he says with the voice that turns me simultaneously into this primeval creature controlled by pheromones and the most delicate poet who recites soft verses in his beloved’s hair. He did THAT Cocteau’s _l'amour me ravage_ because I asked him to, it was OUR thing, our secret communication through art. And because it was my unique way of claiming him even when we were not together. Lustful Timmy and sultry poetry is a combination that had me convinced there is a God. The same God whose voice now hums through me in Timmy’s ear.

_I hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.**_

I am between his legs now, he is between mine. We drown in each other’s mingled scents and it is impossible to tell if I am giving pleasure to him or to myself. I can smell both of us on his pert ass covered in navy cotton as I drag my forehead, my chin and my lips across his crevice. When I can’t wait any longer, I rip the fabric apart and I get only him. He is ripe and sweaty and smells divine, his anus is enveloped in the musk and brine of his unmistakable manliness.

I love watching his hole pulsate and open before me. I feel like I am witnessing the birth of a small star that contracts under its own gravity. We both whimper as we slurp and lap at each other’s soft openings like thirsty animals. Later, when I breach him, his long, skinny legs are around my waist and he bites my shoulder silently as I have him against the transparent wall, his fingers leaving sweaty streaks everywhere and his skin firmly pressed against the cold glass.

 _Harder, baby!_ he says and I know what he means. That he can never get enough of me, that he wants me even deeper inside him and he’ll always be hungrier for me than ever before. And that our episodic encounters only escalate our desperate desire. And I come and come, marking his body from the inside and mouthing the unthinkable against the glass in the void of the arctic night.

_**I lo-** _

He’ll never hear me. Not now, when he is coming on my stomach with my cock still deep inside him and I eat the precious drops from his fingers. He loves doing this with the languid gestures of a satiated nymph. And not later, when his ass will be on my face – my only pale, round Moon that stands between me and the purple and green streaks of the Northern lights. Not even when I will have him squeeze every last drop of my come from his twitching hole in my mouth. I will just savour it, transformed by his delicious juices into this heavenly substance and I will give it back to him in a messy kiss. Only when I am finally alone absorbing his soft snores under the enchanting sky, I will let a single tear drop on his curls.

He is mine. Only for a little longer…


	2. The lighthouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the very patient and understanding person who gave me this prompt: I am sorry for the delay, hope you enjoy the boys and the Canary islands. 💜

Our reunion is sweeter than young wine and just as unbalanced and feisty. He is one of the first through Arrivals in this late hour - yellow backpack, continental 80’s sneakers and the widest smile possible. “Arrrmieeeee!” is a wild shriek that lingers forever in the almost deserted terminal аnd stops the few belated passengers in their tracks. Startled expressions soon give way to dreamy, knowing smiles when he jumps on me, limbs flying in all directions before grasping me firmly and mumbling sweet nothings into my collar bone. His lips are warm and soft when they are trying to be everywhere at once for his trademark noisy, wet smackers that I adore. “Missed you” he whispers “missed this…so much”, mwah-mwah, “so much”, hmmm, “lemme see you”, gripping, clenching, mwah-mwah, “I am here, hold me, hold me…”, cotton rustling, hmmm…I can feel the pleasant, erratic warmth of his small body and the sharp edges of his chin and elbows when he squeezes me and presses himself against me like I am the only thing that keeps him on the ground.

“Let’s go!” He says when we finally halt the hug and realise that we are the only people in the building. His thin hand rests in mine as we walk to the multi-storey car park. It is soft, warm and somewhat sticky (?), as if an invisible glue binds us together. “Strawberry milkshake”, he smiles at me and I laugh with my whole body when he points at the few pink drops on his hoodie. I lean in to kiss these little marks of his clumsiness and his fingers clasp my hair. “Missed me?” he says pulling a little when I poke my tongue in my cheek, delaying my answer. “Not at all”, I whisper teasingly as I pin him to the concrete column next to our car and seize his beautiful mouth, oblivious to everything around us.

Not at all, is all I can muster as he gapes like a hungry bird widening my access to his fruity tongue. Not at all, but also…

** More than you could ever imagine…  **

Our drive to the dunes of Maspalomas is a delirious haze. He gets in the car and seconds later one sneaker is flying over his left shoulder and another over his right one. “That’s better”, he says as he lifts his legs and put his swollen pinkies over the dashboard. “Ugh, stinky!” Contented to the point of silliness, I wave my hand in front of my nose like a real drama queen and try to conceal my laughter. His reaction comes quickly, he rolls his eyes and puffs out those gorgeous lips before lifting his foot to put in on my shoulder. He tickles my ears with his toes as I cover each pink culprit with a soft bite. They can never be stinky, my precious tootsies. All I feel is his camomile detergent, soft dampness and tiredness. The mood turns from playful to hot and then…

“Ohhhhh, cold beer! You are my hero, big man!” he squeals as he rummages the cool box under his seat with unbridled delight. He loves teasing me when he knows he has me under his thumb, so he waves the treat under my nose and takes it from me, getting away with it every time. The rest of the journey is him throwing bottles and empty packs of cheese and onion crisps on the back seat, (“You messy thing!” I try on а stern voice, but he flashes a giant grin at me, and my knees turn soft) and opening the window to shout some obscene lyrics in the still of the night that clasps the island.

Get some guap, guap, get some chicken,

guap, guap, get some bread

Guap, guap, get some chicken, guap, guap,

get some bread Bitch you pressed,

you can flex Get some money, ho, tell me why you stressed,

uh Guap, guap, get some chicken (Cardi B)

Freedom and Happiness met tonight somewhere close to Playa De San Agustin. They had sticky faces and fingers and hugged each other indecently tight. Then they drank cold beer and giggled over crass lyrics before burying their feet in the sand and wriggling their toes…

 

******

 

“Armie, this is…” He is tipsy but that’s not the only reason for being speechless. Before us is the overwhelming vastness of the ocean, divided by the melted gold of the Moon trail. The stars are at a touching distance, bright and big in the dark indigo sky. The breeze smooths out the curves of the dunes and stops to rest in the thorny aulagas below – a tired lover nesting a restless head between his beloved’s legs. Wave after wave curl over the shoreline and dissolve into foam. 

One-two-three, goes the pattern of white flashes from Maspalomas lighthouse, claiming Timmy’s profile for a short second before giving him back to the night.

He lies down in the cold sand and stares at the sky. Not bad, not bad, Elio would have said before closing his eyes and letting me trace his lips with my finger. He would have stood up just like this, eagerly chasing the kiss. Elio’s eyes would have remained dry when he is happy, but such is Timmy’s sensitivity that all beauty renders him helpless. “Man…” He headbutts my chest before biting my Adam’s apple and crashing our mouths together. It feels both submissive and dominant, optimistic and desperate. I eat my name from his mouth, moments before it is lost in the vibrations of his throat.

“Fuck me, Arm…”

My fingers feel the need to peel his clothes off very slowly in the timeless trance of this place where millions of days in the sun have passed.

Hoodie - and off go the cloudless mornings of carefree childhoods.

T-shirt – and I strip off a layer of adolescence with laughter and bold water sommesaults.

Joggers – and I see happy faces strolling along the promenade at sunset.

Boxers - and his nakedness washes over me, fresh and salty like the midnight dip of lovesick honeymooners.

One! The flash from the lighthouse gives me his raised nipple. I dive in and the following darkness gives me the comfort to suck on it, gently and steadily.

Two! His stifled moans guide me as the light shows me his sweet navel and my tongue swirls in the dip of his belly.

Three! His cock comes alive in my mouth as I breathe in the moisture of his crotch and take him deep in my throat. Sand, musk and salt…

“ _Suck me, baby. Suck it good!_ ” Timmy presses my head until I gag and slides his fingers in my mouth, as if willing to feel the pleasure with all parts of his body. A long trail of saliva still glistens on his glans when I find the tiny cave behind his balls and he disintegrates in soft, subdued moans.

The total darkness means I can only feel its jagged, sweet and rubbery edges against my tongue, followed by the softness of the fuzz. Like a blind man, I realise that relying on taste and olfaction intensifies the dizzy feeling in my head. Darkness turns my firm, long swipes and gentle fluttery licks, into this seemingly deprived, yet enhanced sensory feast. I have only the responses of his body, his wriggles, the beauty of the whole range of his whimpers and the grasp of his fingers knotted in my hair. It is insanely sensual, electric…

“…you like tasting my ass?” He says in a hushed tone, but I know he doesn’t need an answer. He needs speech to remind him that he is human and to stop him from floating away. And I need his taste in my mouth to saturate my whole being. Will I freak him out if I say that I want to be between his ass cheeks forever, until I am thoroughly soaked in his juices and can absorb nothing else anymore?

The lighthouse begins to rewind time again…

One! And he begs me to fuck him when he finds my mouth, drenched in his divine fluids.

Two! The breeze takes his pleads over the ocean to dance with them while he climbs on my lap.

Three! He is straddling my hard prick, desperate to be filled up.

His mouth is frantic, seeking, biting my earlobe before spitting in my open mouth and licking inside. I slide inside him deeper and deeper, totally lost in him and the magic of our merging. _“Ride me, Timmy. I need you to…”_ I am so choked with emotion; I need to hide my face under his armpit. And he does, enjoying the wet, slippery feeling when he goes up and down and the slight crunch of the sand deep inside him. When he feels me coming, he puts my hand on his cock and crushes our foreheads.

 _“Together, baby!”_ And then all I feel are the sweet, hot pulses; his – between my fingers and mine - in his twitching, tight ass. I smear his come over his chest before licking him clean and savouring his precious purrs. My finger finds his hole again аnd goes in as a plug, a token of my unwillingness to escape him and my need to leave my seed inside him forever…

*****

Above our heads, the stars are beginning to fade when I hug him from behind and nuzzle his curls. We fall asleep curled into each other, two lovers cast away on the shores of eternity…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and commenting. 😘

**Author's Note:**

> *Blur, To the end  
> **Pablo Neruda


End file.
